Page 26 of Day Shift

Quietly, I peeked into Jane Doe’s room. There she was, the woman who had consumed my thoughts for days. She didn’t notice me standing there as she leaned against the pillows, her eyes wide and darting around the room in panic. Her breathing was rapid, and she looked ready to bolt, but even in her current state, she was still unbelievably beautiful.

Chapter seventeen

Out of nowhere, a man’s massive, tattooed hand appeared in the doorway. It held a little teddy bear in an almost comically gentle way, making the plush little guy dance and swing from side to side as he wiggled it and kept the rest of himself hidden from my view. He made the bear bob up and down to the rhythm of the song I could barely place by Bob Marley, maybe. “Be happy, you’re awake and a beautiful sight. It’s gonna be a good day, no troubles to fight. Smile now, everything’s gonna be all right,” he sang, making up his own lyrics just for me and perfectly matching the bear’s antics. The playful and silly melody brought a smile to my face despite the terrible situation.

As I sat there in bed, tangled in too many wires and tubes, with my heart hammering in my ears, a storm swirled in my head. Everything was too much—too bright, too loud, too unknown. But as I watched the bear swing from a hand that was as big as a shovel and tattooed with small patterns that moved with every little gesture, it was hard not to chuckle. The absurdity of it helped keep my panic at bay. The corners of my mouth twitched with soft laughter, and I leaned back into my pillows, watching this odd little scene unfold.

When the man finally walked into the room, the air seemed to shift with his presence. The scent of his cologne—subtle but distinctly masculine—was familiar, like the sound of his voice and made me relax a little. I couldn’t believe the size of him. He was a mountain of a man, with muscles bulging under his tight shirt, each movement showing off the ink that swirled over his arms like a personal gallery of stories. This was the type of guy you’d think twice about crossing on a dark street. He moved with the kind of confidence that came from knowing he could take on the world and win. Yet, there was a warmth about him that hinted at a softer side.

Silently he walked toward the corner of the room, then shrugged off his guitar case and leaned it against the wall.

I caught myself staring, taking in every detail—from his shoulder-length dirty-blond hair half tied back in a bun to the blue scrubs barely containing all his inked muscles, down to the black boots on his feet. His appearance, so bold and imposing, made me self-conscious. Here I was, a mess, with tangled hair and a goofy-looking hospital gown draped over my body, and there he was, looking like some badass street fighter.

When he turned to face me, I dropped my gaze, embarrassed over how awful I must look. I dragged my eyes slowly back up to his face, tracing the lines of his tattoos along his arms and neck, over his chiseled jawline, and up to his eyes. When our eyes met, his breath seemed to catch for a split second, and his playful grin softened into something more intense. For a long while, he didn’t speak, just stared.

Then, shaking his head as if to clear his mind, he stepped closer. In a voice low and smooth like melted chocolate, he finally said, “When your gaze met mine just now, I found myself lost in those icy blue sapphires. They’re like the place where the tumultuousness of the sea meets the tranquility of the sky, stealing my breath and every word I had planned to say.”

His poetic words lingered in the air between us, and my cheeks warmed, the heat spreading across my face. I couldn’t help but be drawn to him, despite knowing nothing about him—or myself, for that matter.

Then it hit me—the voice. That voice had filled the silence of my dimly lit mind, had kept the haze of unconsciousness at bay over the last who knew how many days. I looked at him, really looked at him, trying to reconcile the voice with the man standing before me. He was nothing like I had pictured. How could someone so…threatening-looking carry such calm warmth in his voice? His presence had helped to pull me out of wherever I’d been trapped in my mind.

Tears sprang to my eyes. My hand flew to my mouth, emotions overtaking me.

His face melted into an expression of concern, and he closed the distance between us in two long strides, setting the teddy bear down next to me.

“I brought this little guy to make you smile,” he said, giving me a crooked grin. “Figured he’s less intimidating than I might be at first glance.”

I smiled, drawn in by his straightforward charm and unexpected tenderness.

“Yeah, maybe just a tad less,” I said with a note of sarcasm.

At this, the big guy laughed, tilting his head back slightly. “I’m Conan, by the way.” He stepped back to give me some space, though every inch of him radiated a protective stance. “I’m the nurse who took care of you when you came into the emergency department, and I’ve been here with you, playing music, hoping it might help somehow.”

“Nurse?! You…you’re a nurse?” I choked out. Looking down, I realized I was wearing nothing but a hospital gown. Oh, God, how humiliating. “Sorry, I just—”

“Don’t worry. No apologies are necessary. I’m used to it,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck and chuckling. “I’m a damn good nurse. Once patients get over the initial shock, they’re good with it. The ink actually can be a good conversation starter.”

“Oh, it’s not the tattoos, or your size, or—” I flailed my hands about like an idiot. “It’s just that I’m rather underdressed. Have no idea where my clothes are or when I lost them.”

“You have nothing to worry about. We’re all respectful of patients’ privacy. Besides, we’ve seen it all in the emergency department. I just wanted to stop by and make sure you were doing okay.” He dropped his head to the side and gave me a half smile. “Hope the music therapy has helped you these last few days? My brothers ride me hard over playing for anyone who will hold still long enough.”

“It did. You have no idea,” I said in a rush. Overwhelmed by embarrassment and the memory of lying here paralyzed and unable to communicate, I grimaced. The throbbing in my head started up again, and I dropped my gaze, reached over, and picked up the teddy bear. I ran my fingers over its little paw, avoiding eye contact with Conan. “Thank you. It’s hard… My mind is a blurry mess. I’m not sure what’s real and what’s not, but I do remember your songs. They’re the only thing that’s kept me from going completely mad.”

“That’s good to hear. I love playing. Don’t stress over what’s happening. Brain injuries are tricky. It will take time for you to heal and for your mind to sort everything out. So tell me, are you hurting anywhere? How are you feeling otherwise?” Concern was etched onto his handsome face.

“I…I don’t know,” I admitted, my voice shaky. “I don’t even know what my name is. Sounds stupid, I know, but I only have broken pieces.”

I forced myself to look up at him and smile as best I could. I didn’t want him to think I didn’t appreciate everything he’d done for me. There was something about Conan that made me feel safe, even amid all this chaos and confusion.

“Hey, it’s all right,” he reassured me, his vivid emerald-green eyes locking onto mine. “I’ll help you figure this out, okay? I promise.”

“Thanks. Really,” I whispered. My heart sped up with gratitude and a feeling of a connection I couldn’t quite explain. The mechanical beeping of the machine behind me echoed the increased tempo.

“Any time,” he replied. His smile reached his eyes, lighting them up as he glanced over at the monitor. “And now that you’re awake, I’m sure it’s just a matter of time before your mind is able to reconnect all your memories.”

His assurance, simple and firm, anchored me. I nodded, feeling safer. I was strangely at ease with this giant with tattoos and tender eyes.

“Do you know where you are?” he asked gently.

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